


Taciturn Sword Boys and Their Chatty Boyfriends

by westiec



Series: Westie's MDZS/CQL Tumblr Ficlets [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Music and Magic, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Song: Wangxian (Módào Zǔshī), Yílíng Lǎozǔ Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, mixing magical systems, wangxian immortals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westiec/pseuds/westiec
Summary: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, having cultivated to immortality, set out to explore the world. You meet some interesting people, doing that.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Series: Westie's MDZS/CQL Tumblr Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933486
Comments: 33
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> archiving a tumblr ficlet originally posted [here](https://iamwestiec.tumblr.com/post/622377357503856640/so-is-yours-always-this-verbose-wei-wuxian)
>
>> **bladedweaponsandswishycoats:**  
>  I would absolutely pay to see a fight between Lan Wangji and Geralt of Rivia. (They’d realize they were on the same side, eventually, though it might take a while. Meanwhile, Jaskier would be standing around next to Wei Wuxian, also standing around, waiting for their respective partners to finish with the swordfighty part. And THEN what???)
>> 
>> **iamwestiec:**  
>  Oh my GOD wait no, I'm dying and I really need to hear Jaskier and Wei Wuxian's conversation now. :D

“So is yours always this… verbose?”

Wei Wuxian shoots a look at the colorfully dressed young man with a stringed instrument across his back who’d sidled up beside him. His companion has been locked in combat with Lan Wangji for the better part of half an hour, but this man does not seem concerned. Taking in the twinkle in his eye, Wei Wuxian realizes the man has come to the same conclusion as him - the two silent fighters have long since stopped trying to kill each other in earnest.

“Hanguang Jun there is a man of action, rather than words, it’s true. It seems your… partner is the same?”

This man does not have the look of a cultivator, even an unorthodox cultivator like Wei Wuxian himself, but the fond and appreciative way he watches the white haired man makes it clear they are partners of some kind.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure Geralt knew how to say anything but ‘fuck’ and 'go away’ at first, no matter how much I pestered him” he laughs. “But you know how Witchers are. What school is yours from? I’ve never seen one with only a single blade or quite so much… flippiness.”

Wei Wuxian does not, in fact, know how Witchers were, but he laughs as well, remembering his own young self’s early attempts to entice more than single words from Lan Wangji.

“You will likely not have heard of them - Hanguang Jun is of the Gusu Lan sect of cultivators, far east from here. And I must apologize, with his black eyes and the ferocity of his attacks against those ghouls, we thought your Witcher friend might be a fiercecorpse himself.”

“What, like a necrophage? Urgh. No, the eye thing is just from a combat potion, nothing to do with eating the dead.”

He isn’t entirely convinced this Witcher’s cultivation had nothing to do with the resentful energy of the dead, but Wei Wuxian decides voicing that observation would likely raise more questions about his own path than he wishes to answer upon first meeting.

“Anyway, where are my manners,” continues the man, sweeping a deep and fanciful bow. “My name is Jaskier, bard extraordinaire, and my fighty friend over there is the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Do you think we can talk them into uncrossing swords long enough for a drink and a meal? There’s a town just up the road where we’re still welcome, and much as I enjoy watching Geralt fight, I’d much rather converse on a full stomach with fewer swords flying.”

This Jaskier is a kindred spirit indeed.

“Lan Zhan!” he calls out, “Lan Zhan, are you done playing with this man? His friend says there is a tavern nearby, come and buy me a meal and some liquor!”

Lan Wangji gracefully spins into the air, summons his guqin, and strums a chord which sends his opponent flying backwards.

The Witcher Geralt shakes his head, muttering something and making an aborted hand gesture Wei Wuxian can’t quite make out.

Beside him, Jaskier’s mouth drops open.

“I have GOT to learn how to do that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier assumes WWX is LWJ's bard. WWX is enjoying the idea of being seen as a musical boytoy and does not correct this assumption. At some point they run into more zombies, so he busts out Chenqing, and Jaskier is just like, "okay does EVERYONE multiclass where you come from??"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is happy to have made another bard friend. Wei Wuxian has perhaps left out some minor details about his own talents.

Jaskier has heard Wei Wuxian play many times while they've been travelling together, adding a cheerful countermelody to his bawdy ballads in taverns or experimenting with snatches of different tunes as they walk. He's an excellent flautist and a keen musician, the kind who's fun to play with. Jaskier has enjoyed the new company over the last few weeks, chatting pleasantly with Wei Wuxian about theory and improvisation and trading bits of tune back and forth, Lan Wangji chiming in every so often with a concise and fascinating contribution of his own from where he holds the leads of their headstrong donkey.

(Little Apple, as Wei Wuxian had introduced her, has latched onto Roach with what seems to be the equine equivalent of hero worship. Roach, for her part, bears the smaller creature following after her every step like a newborn foal with something like dignified resignation. When he first noticed this, Wei Wuxian had bemoaned his donkey’s disloyalty, loudly, and with a great many hand gestures, and Geralt had insisted it was only natural that she should seek to emulate a companion as steadfast and peerless as Roach. That was the first time Jaskier saw what he thinks  _ might _ be Lan Wangji's amused face. It looks, it must be said, remarkably like all his other ones.)

Jaskier had noticed that Wei Wuxian’s stylings often incorporated a few lines of one particular melody, which turned out to be a duet with Lan Wangji's guqin played in full for them one gorgeous starlit night around a dying campfire. The music they made together felt like it reached into Jaskier's very soul to pluck at memories from the most tempestuous and heartbroken years of his life and soothe them into softer lines. He had looked over at Geralt, who didn't always care about music that wasn't Jaskier's, and found his eyes closed, a rapt expression on his face that took his breath away. The song had words, though to his surprise, it was not Wei Wuxian who sang them, but Lan Wangji, in a lovely soft baritone, something almost like a smile on his lips as they shaped around the syllables of his native language. Jaskier did not even think to ask for a translation, feeling honored just to be hearing the performance. No one made a sound as the last notes faded until Wei Wuxian broke the moment, turning to them and declaring, misty-eyed, "My husband wrote that one, years and years and years ago when we were both young. So talented, my Lan Zhan!" Love shone out of his face as though the sun had risen in the middle of the night, and Lan Wangji's steady gaze on him was the full moon, reflecting it all back.

(They look like young men still, and Jaskier wonders sometimes how many years and years and years it has been for them. They've a weight to their eyes that reminds him of Geralt's.)

So Jaskier had thought himself very familiar with the musical oeuvre of his new friend, and had found something rather charming about meeting another duo of an outgoing bard and his reserved swordsman, traveling the world together, like a harmony to the familiar rhythm he and Geralt had finally found. Unlike the booming attacks Lan Wangji could draw from his stringed instrument - something Jaskier  _ still _ wants to know how to do, as well as why they claim he would have to take up  _ sword training,  _ of all things, to learn it - Wei Wuxian's flute music has always been just that, music. Powerful and magical in the way a truly good musician can make a song at times, the force behind it that of well-nurtured talent, a great deal of practice, and the passionate soul of a true artist. 

This sounds like nothing he has heard before. 

It's… well, it's terrifying, that's what it is, but it's also utterly captivating. It's high and eerie and full of rage and sorrow and power. It makes the hairs on the back of Jaskier's neck stand on end, and when he catches Geralt's eyes, they've gone wide with surprise and a wariness he doesn't often see there. 

The swarm of alghouls - bigger than they expected, faster than they expected, containing more godsdamned exploding rotfiends than they expected - suddenly goes still, as though caught in the power of Wei Wuxian's music, and the flame of Jaskier's torch turns an unearthly green. A wind that had not been there before raises plumes of black smoke which swirl around Wei Wuxian, sinuously twisting through the air to set his skirts and his hair floating and lashing about as he makes his way calmly through the gruesome horde. When he raises his eyes, they are glowing red, and something small and primal inside Jaskier wants to scream at the same time as the storytelling part of his mind is already reaching for the phrases and metaphors and melodies to capture the sheer overwhelming eeriness of him. Jaskier has seen a lot of strange magics over the years, but he doesn't have words or music for this.

Lan Wangji is steady as ever in the midst of it all, his sword holding itself unsheathed in a ready position and his guqin floating under his hands. Geralt spits out a curse and throws another igni at the nearest rotfiend, flinching only a little when those flames, too, turn that bright, poisonous, green. "The big lumpy ones need to be burned or they'll explode," he bites out. "You can hold them all still?"

"He can," Lan Wangji replies firmly, disappearing his instrument with a flash of blue light back to wherever the hell it is that it goes and pulling out some slips of paper. (A third part of Jaskier's mind makes a note to ask about exactly how many pockets are in those sleeves.) Between Geralt's igni and what are apparently Lan Wangji's spellpapers, the rotfiends are quickly taken care of, and then it's a matter of beheading the rest.

Wei Wuxian trills an arpeggio and makes them  _ kneel. _

As the last alghoul is taken care of, Wei Wuxian changes his melody to something soft and soothing, peaceful in its tone. The strange wind dies down and the frenzy of black smoke dissipates into lazy curls and then clears. Jaskier tentatively makes his way over to stand beside Geralt. Lan Wangji pulls his guqin back out and joins his husband's song, then transitions into another tune. Wei Wuxian drops his flute and closes his eyes. The flame of the torch and the last few embers of smoldering rotfiend turn back to a comfortingly normal warm orange, and Jaskier feels his mind becoming settled as he listens to the quiet melody. As Lan Wangji plays the last few chords of the song, Geralt shivers all over and his eyes blink back to normal, long before his potion should've worn off. Lan Wangji places his hands atop the strings, and Wei Wuxian heaves a deep sigh and opens his eyes, now back to their regular color as well, before rubbing his nose and turning towards them almost sheepishly. 

"So," he begins, spreading his hands wide, "I'm sure you have questions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt names every horse he has Roach; I see no reason Wei Wuxian would not name every donkey he has Little Apple. Or maybe they're both immortal. Reader's choice!
> 
> Stay tuned, apparently there's more where this came from! :)


End file.
